


our hollywood ending

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Future Fic, Romance, cousyfest2k17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 16:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10495170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: It's a nice night.(Written for the Cousy Fest 2017 - prompt: "fireworks")





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nausicaa_of_phaeacia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/gifts).



“Nice night,” Daisy says, thinking they’ve done this before, but not quite.

Disaster avoided there seems to be a party all across Los Angeles. Every backyard and patio seems to be having one of their own. Barbecues. Improvised DJ sessions. People dancing.

And the press is looking for Daisy. She’s sure. But she doesn’t want to be found. She’s tired. Not battle-tired or injury-tired, just tired like wanting a bit of space, and peace. She is sitting on the floor of her van, parked in a favorite spot in East LA. The sky is finally turning dark and there are a thousand color dots across it, the different houses in the neighbour celebrating with their own display of fireworks. Lots of children on the street. It’s like a national holiday.

“Here,” Coulson hands her one of the ice creams he’s just come back from buying. He has a little cut above his right eyebrow and his shirt ruffled from the fight, but other than that he looks fine. 

“People must be wondering where you are,” she says.

“People must be wondering where _you_ are,” he points out, sitting next to her on the van, but with his legs outside.

“Mmm. They’re more used to me making this kind of escapes.”

“Then you must be a bad influence,” he says, taking a big lick from his strawberry cone.

Neither are known for avoiding responsibilities, so Daisy guesses it means something that they are both here instead of back at the base, doing the post-mortem or preparing for the next potential battle. It means something that instead of that they are standing still, next to each other, concerned with the views and the sugar fix.

“Have you thought about my offer?” he asks, gently.

With the whole the-world-is-about-to-end (again) rush Daisy hadn’t had the time, honestly. And part of her still expects it to be a joke, Coulson wanting her to lead SHIELD. Coulson has been a great Director, and she thinks he finds it hard to give himself credit for it. But she also knows he doesn’t want to be in charge. He wants to be Agent Coulson. The question is: what does she want?

“You really think I can pull this off, uh?” she says. She feels awkward, inadequate, like when she first joined SHIELD and Coulson started asking for her opinion, including her.

He smiles. His lips look pink from the ice.

“I thought you could do this a year ago,” he tells her. “I stand by my original opinion.”

Daisy can’t think too much about that, about how Coulson thought she would be a good Director for SHIELD right after the whole ordeal with Hive, how he wanted her in that position back when she was struggling with withdrawal and guilt and weeks after she almost destroyed the base. It’s kind of mind-blowing, only Coulson would still see her as a good fit for the team, let alone for a leadership role, after that.

She nods. “Give me some more time,” she asks.

“Of course. All you need.”

A young woman walks past them, carrying a cardboard box full of bottles with different kinds of alcohol, heading no doubt to one of these improvised barrio parties. She can hear music somewhere, some beats, but muffled by the murmur of people, laughter, doors opening and closing, explosions, and a gentle breeze blowing and rustling the leaves on the trees nearby.

And it hits her.

She is happy. In this moment, she’s not complete or satisfied, but she is happy, and she hears another firework lit up and something clicks.

“Phil,” she says.

He turns and looks pleased at hearing her say his first name.

“Yes?”

“Do you like _Casablanca_?”

“The movie or the city?”

“The movie.”

“Of course.”

Daisy takes the rest of his ice cream from his hand and puts it on the floor, over the napkin. She gets very close to him, almost in his face. Coulson throws his shoulders a bit back but he doesn’t move. She slides closer to the edge of the van and lifts her legs, flexing until she has them across Coulson’s legs, then grabbing his shoulders for balance and climbing him.

He is surprised but lets her do until Daisy is basically sitting on his lap. She fears she’s embarrassing herself (even though she knows Coulson would never be unkind rejecting her) but then he rests one hand on her knee, a light touch, and his looks of surprise turns into something more like curiosity.

And she has learned to flirt from movies, and in a hurry she has decided to do this, tonight. She feels good-tired from the battle, and everybody is okay and safe, and Coulson will always be the most important person in her life. People are celebrating. Every time Daisy wants something the world has a way of telling her she can’t have it. That’s not going to stop her anymore.

“I need to time this right,” she says, listening to the noises around them.

Coulson looks confused again, but all right, and he starts moving his hand up and down Daisy’s leg, very soothingly.

Finally the neighbors explode the next batch.

“Was that the fireworks or the pounding of my heart?” Daisy says, paraphrasing Ingrid Bergman and pressing her mouth to Coulson’s.

Sweet, strawberry-sweet, and trembling (but not like her powers trembling, regular human emotion trembling), her ears filled with the colors of the sky right now, his soft and cold and sweet (again) lips.

Coulson kisses her back ( _thank god_ ) and then laughs delayed laughter at her line.

“In my case it’s definitely my heart,” he says, wrapping one arm around her back and shifting her so they are both more comfortable.

Daisy hides her face into his neck for a moment, embarrassed. She hadn’t planned that far ahead, and in the back of her mind (and all over her heart) she believed he was never going accept her feelings. She is not sure what to do with this new reality, full of possibilities. Daisy is not used to having that - possibilities. Coulson looks at her and she leans, thinking about a second kiss.

Some dude laughs very loudly somewhere nearby and it startles both, pulls them apart a bit, and she and Coulson chuckle, looking at each other (she can feel his whole body shaking under her, and it’s amazing and a bit scary, to be so close to someone she feels so close to in every other respect). Coulson takes her hands in his, quietly resting them over her lap. Daisy looks at her, stares, like she can’t believe all this is happening.

He looks up.

Right now the sky is full of smoke, and suddenly a blooming crown of yellow and pink.

“You’re right,” Coulson says. “It’s nice out here.”

“Yeah,” Daisy replies, her eyes not leaving his face.


End file.
